


He is a good liar

by Waldmaedchen



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Drug Use, Explicit Language, F/M, Original Character(s), Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 18:09:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20643461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waldmaedchen/pseuds/Waldmaedchen
Summary: "He never was sober, when he walked down the dark corridor of this shabby house. He never had a clear thought of what he was going to do next. No matter how often he told him self that this would be the last time, he found him self in this situation on a regular base. He knew, that he was a good liar. Everyone knew it."





	He is a good liar

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome! 
> 
> Please don't be to strict with me. This is my first fanfiction that I didn't write in my native language (German). I don't have a beta-reader so there will be probably some mistakes. I wouldn't mind if you point them out to me or even volunteer as a beta-reader! I'm the learning by doing type of person and what is better for learning than some saucy stories, haha. 
> 
> Of course, I appreciate any kind of respectful feedback.

He never was sober, when he walked down the dark corridor of this shabby house. He never had a clear thought of what he was going to do next. No matter how often he told him self that this would be the last time, he found him self in this situation on a regular base. He knew, that he was a good liar. Everyone knew it. 

He stopped with heavy breaths at the wooden door that has a yellowish '13' painted on it. The man listened into the silence but all he heard was his blood running through his veins. He closed his eyes and rested his heavy head on the hard dark wood for a second. The last two glasses of whiskey seemed to taken its toll on him. 

After he straightened himself up again he lifted his arm to knock at the rotten door. He gulped down the feeling of disappointment when he didn't hear footsteps. He told him self that he was better than that. But he was a good liar. He knocked again, this time more forcefully, almost desperate. It was pathetic. 

His facial expression hardened when he heard noises from the other side of the door. He never would let her know how badly he needed her. She was just a cheap fuck, wasn't she? 

When the dark haired woman opened the door, he stared back in eyes full of surprise. It kind of annoyed him. After all this time this naive girl still believed him when he told her that he will never come back. She should have know better at this point. 

Without saying a word he passed her and entered the small apartment. He was greeted by the well-known chaos that was spread throughout the tiny flat. Empty bottles an dirty dishes on the counter, worn clothes and shoes all over the floor, full ashtrays here and there. It was disgusting. 

Calmly the young woman grabbed two wineglasses and put them on the round table where he had sat down. She poured both of them a cheap wine out of the tetra pack, before she sat down and lit a cigarette. Casually she took a drag and blew out the smoke in the stifling room air with relish. 

“It's been a while, huh?” 

He simply nodded. Yes, it's been a while. He was busy gaining his old life back. But he doesn't tell her. He also doesn't tell her that he painfully failed. It's none of her business. 

“How are you?” 

“I'm good”, he lied. He doesn't even try to cover it. “What about you?” 

“I'm fine”, she chuckled softly. 

The injection sites on the crooks of her arms and her tarnished pupils told another story.

“Tell me about your life”, he command. And she obeyed. 

He wasn't interested in all the trivialities that were her life. But he liked her voice. It has a calming effect on him. He also was mesmerized by the movement of her lips. One corner of her mouth was hanging a little bit lower that the other. When she spoke her mouth transformed into an bizarre work of art. Painted with blueish stains of red wine. 

She had nothing in common with the neatly dressed perfect women he knew. Her mascara was always smudged, her lipstick was faded. The skin on her face was reddened. Her dark brown hair hung loose over her shoulders. She wore a much to tight an short dress with purple animal print. Thanks to her bare feet he could see the splintered nail polish on her toe nails. 

He would never choose this girl over his wife – a woman with class and elegance. He would never lower himself to show off with a disgrace like her in public. But he can't help, it seemed that this ratchet bitch was one of his fetishes. His favorite fetish, to be honest. 

He could feel himself getting hard, when she casually pulled up her leg on the chair to rest her chin on her knee – giving him a good view on the neon green thong that she was wearing. She was well aware of that, but she simple doesn't give a damn and started to talk about some other topics that he wasn't interested in. 

When he decided that he was tired of staring, he got up and slapped the wineglass out of her hand, which she was about to take a sip from. The glass crashed down on the wooden floor and broke into a thousand small pieces. 

He dropped on his knees in front of her chair and pulled her legs further apart. He inhaled deeply as he smelled her scent. His rough hands glided up her toned legs till they reached the transparent material of her underwear. Effortlessly he tore the tiny piece of clothing. 

His cock twitched as he saw her glistening hairless pussy. His wife never shaved – she thought that was vulgar. He agreed, it was. But he liked it. 

Eagerly he began to stroke her slit with his index finger, earning a quietly moan from her. When he finally reached her clit, putting pressure on it, her moans getting louder and louder. She was already dripping, as he pushed two fingers easily in to her hot cunt. 

Her moans became cries, when he fucked her with his fingers merciless. Her head was thrown back, her eyes were shut. Her hands desperately clutched the edges of the old chair, her knuckles already white. Her juices were coating his fingers, were dripping down on the wooden seat, leaving a puddle of sin. 

The young woman came with a loud cry of pleasure, gushing her juices all over his hand. A smug grin crept onto his lips. He knew, that he was good at pleasuring a woman. With a sigh, he pulled out his fingers. He didn't want to have her dirty juices all over him. He held his fingers in front of her mouth – she already knew that she had to clean off the mess she had made. Eagerly she sucked his hand clean. 

He stood up, when he shoved his fingers deep into her mouth. He watched with awe as they easily slid down her throat, again and again. She looked at him with watering eyes, fighting her gag reflex, begging him quietly for his cock. But not tonight – he had other plans. 

He roughly grabbed her by the upper arm and yanked her onto the bed. He squeezed her neck and pressed her head against the cold stone wall.

“Hands on your back”, he commanded. 

And she obeyed – like always. She is a good little slut, trained to please him. 

He pulled out the handcuffs that were attached to his police uniform and pinned her hands in place. She cried out when the metal cut painfully in the soft flesh of her arm. 

“When I arrested you little whore for the first time because of drug possession I got a hard one only by the thought of fucking you hard while having you tied up”, he confesses in her ear. 

Without hesitation he opened his belt buckle and then his pants to free his hard cock. He stroked himself a few times before he slammed hard in her waiting pussy. He pulled out just to go even deeper this time. 

The woman in front of him shamelessly screamed out her lust as he fucked her senseless. With every thrust the bedstead hit the wall noisily. Nothing was discreet about this, everyone in the building knew at this point that the woman living in apartment No. 13 got a good fuck. 

It turned him on. His own grunts became louder the closer he got to his climax. He pulled down her dress, grabbing one of her tiny tits so hard that he is positive that he will left bruises. With the other hand he pushed her hair on one side so that he had better access to her neck. 

He froze as he noticed the faded bite marks on her neck. His property was used and marked by another man. It made him sick. 

“Slut”, he growled before he bit hard down on the existing bruise, “hope this fuck was at least worth it.” 

“He's my boyfriend.” 

A deep chuckle escaped his throat. “Your boyfriend? And still you like to be fucked by the police officer who arrested you several times.” 

“Yeah”, she breathed heavily. 

He pulled out, and yanked her violently with her back on the stained mattress. He straddled her and began to pump his shaft. 

“You know I got enough against you in my hands to get you in prison.” 

“But you won't”, she said confidently. 

No, he won't. He needed her, more than he will be able to ever admit. It began as a simple fuck. He used her for his own pleasure. Used her situation for his own purposes. But over the time he realized, that being with her gives him peace. Made him feel alive again. 

He stared in her green eyes, as he came with a loud animalistic growl, spurting his seed all over her face. She darted out her pink tongue to lick up the mess he made on her face. He watches her actions with a vacant expression.

“I love you, you know,” she said quietly. He wasn't able to tell if she was crying or if her eyes were watering because of his cum. 

She never said it before but he already knew. What she was doing for him was because of love. 

He got up and tucked himself away. The young woman rolled onto her belly to give him better access to the handcuffs to finally free her. 

“You are nothing more than a cheap fuck. This was the last time, I swear.” 

He was a good liar. And now she also knows.


End file.
